They next adopted the long iron gas-pipe bomb, six inches in length, which could be carried in the inside vest pocket. Every one fell in love with the new invention, especially Fischer, and he kept a large soap-box full of the bombs at his home, carefully concealed under his bed.
But the Anarchists were bent on still greater improvements. They continued their experiments, and the next new invention was the round lead bomb, called by them the “Czar bomb.” This was the kind brought to August Spies’ office by “the man from Cleveland,” or rather by Louis Lingg. One of these bombs is shown in a full-page engraving presented elsewhere. They had been designated as the “Czar bomb” until bombs began to fill my office, and then they were referred to as “the round lead bombs.” The police knew them as Lingg’s bombs.
Some of Fischer’s bombs were scattered among trusted Anarchists in the Board of Trade procession, and their effectiveness would have been tried on that occasion had it not been for police interference. The character and explosiveness of the “Lingg bomb” are described in the testimony of the officers and expert chemists during the trial.
Samuel Fielden was found at his home during the day of May 5th, and placed under arrest. He accepted the situation calmly, and, without a remonstrance, accompanied the officers to the Central Station. Officer Slayton, who had him in care, introduced him to the Lieutenant in charge of the detective department, and, in view of the conspicuous part the prisoner had played at the Haymarket, one would suppose that he would have been subjected to a very rigorous examination as to his movements for several days preceding the evening of May 4. But nothing of the kind occurred. The Lieutenant proceeded to denounce him in English more vigorous than elegant, and delivered himself of an opinion about the man and the work of the Anarchists at the Haymarket. Fielden stood it all without a murmur, and probably would have said nothing had not the Lieutenant called him a Dutchman. That allusion was the “last straw.” Fielden remonstrated and emphatically declared that he was an Englishman. He was subsequently turned over to Superintendent Ebersold, and, while exhibiting his wound, caused by a shot during the Haymarket riot, he was informed by that officer that it ought to have gone through his head. The observation was a pertinent one at the moment, and possibly the felicity of its expression may have satisfied the official that with it his duty had ended in the case. At any rate, Fielden was not catechized to any material extent by the Chief, and that official, as well as the head of the detective department, was no wiser than before the man’s arrest.
SAMUEL FIELDEN.
From a Photograph taken by the Police.
The prisoner, who had been shown to have declared at the Haymarket, “Here come the bloodhounds, the police; you do your duty and I’ll do mine,” and to have fired a shot in the direction of the police after dismounting from the speakers’ wagon, was then passed into a cell. His house was searched, but nothing of a criminating character was discovered. He undoubtedly possessed a great deal of information respecting the revolutionary plot. Had it not been for work done outside of the Central Station, Fielden would have been speedily released, and possibly some apology might have been offered him for the inconvenience occasioned by his arrest and the unintentional reflection cast upon the English and German nationalities.
Fielden was kept locked up, indicted, and finally convicted on discoveries made independently of the Chief’s office or the detective department. The education, demeanor and independence of the man were well calculated to deceive the most expert readers of human nature, and his emphatic assertions regarding the want of any knowledge of a conspiracy would have made him a free man to-day had his case rested on the efforts of the Central Station. Fielden was a sort of diamond in the rough. He possessed much native ability, a ruggedness of character which commanded admiration, and a force and volubility of speech which swayed the unlettered masses. Had he passed through either an academic or collegiate training, there is no telling what eminence he might have achieved in the higher walks of life. His rough, uncouth appearance greatly heightened the effect of his utterances, as few looked for eloquence from such a man. He was born in Dodmorden, Lancashire, England, in 1847, and spent a number of his earlier years in a cotton mill. While thus engaged he became a Sunday-school teacher at the age of eighteen, and some time later branched out as an itinerant Methodist exhorter. Some time after (1868) he came to America, settling in New York, and the next year he found his way to Chicago. He went to work at Summit, a hamlet a few miles southwest of town, on the farm of ex-Mayor John Wentworth, but he did not remain there long before he migrated to Arkansas and Louisiana to engage in railroad construction work. In 1871 he returned to Chicago and engaged in manual labor, principally as teamster in handling stone. In 1880 he became a member of the Liberal League, and under the training and guidance of George Schilling he soon became a rabid Socialist. From that the step was only a short one to unbridled Anarchy, and the pupil finally became a teacher to Schilling in advanced theories on the state of society they all sought to inaugurate. Fielden finally became a boon companion of Spies and Parsons, and all the rugged eloquence he could command was given to the cause. He was a more forcible speaker than either of the two just named, and whenever he preached force, as he always did after becoming an Anarchist, his language commanded wider attention and made a deeper impression. Had it not been for his own sincere penitence for his past misdeeds and the intervention of influential friends because of that penitence, he would have died on the gallows. But he recanted at the last moment of hope for clemency, and the Governor commuted his sentence to imprisonment for life. He is a married man with two small children, and the misery he wrought upon them has been beyond expression. Such is the fruit of Anarchy.